Hamar acts as a magic carpet for Alessia, and the unlikely pair rocket back up the pyramid towards the fight
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The Halifax Library is a classic brick building that has seen better days. To one side is a frankly creepy bronze statue of a woman with a floppy hat with the legend ‘Pollyanna’. At some point it must have been an impressive place, but neglect and decades of light vandalism have taken its toll. Several of its windows sport plywood instead of glass. Crude spray paint tags, not even the artistic style you see in more urban settings dot its foundation stones. Trash collects in the corners and weeds grow in the cracks. However, it is open for business, and there are people about
Hamar arrows down the edge of the stepped pyramid, angling down close to a flight of blood-caked stairs. He sees Alessia stumping through the jungle below. Although it is hard to read emotions on the undead warrior, Hamar gets the sense she is not pleased.
RD 1
24 Taishe [miss]
Nahuatl Ti's ethereal weapon stabs into Kersh, drawing a groan from him. 13 Spider's glowing macuahuitl fails to connect
Tragon's strike fells one of the Lotus agents
Saturday, October 24rd, 2020 After about an hour of meditation, Miyuku goes through her regular stretching routine before getting dressed and checking in on Miren before breakfast. Miyuku feels well stretched and calm as she pads quietly to Miren's room
The egg salad lies uneasy on Coyote's stomach as Nace stretches a bit to get the kinks out of his muscles. The dawn slowly brightens into early morning, as the day warms up past the frosty start to a chill sunny start.
Effects: Group is now >HASTED< Duration: 4/11 rds 25 Hamar: pending
The hideous twisted knot of eyes and flesh twirls in mid air, shrieking in an ungodly high-pitched tone. Manhayth fires his bow at the thing
two of his arrows find their mark
Coyote indeed knows of prana, the Sanskrit word for life force. The thoughts had an alien tinge, but also had a human feel as well. This leads him to believe whoever was thinking these thoughts had started out as human, but were essentially transmogrified by something into some sort of supernatural predator. As to the exact predator? Not an undead. Those thoughts are usually completely alien. Something(s) that feed on life force in some fashion. Coyote has heard of psychic vampires, but they are usually genetic anomalies, not made creatures. So, a pack of living life force feeders seem to be the likely culprits
The group has their dinner. The music throbs behind the metal curtain, loud, but muted by the barrier. After they finish, they head into their car. Coyote takes the name of their inn, then ambles off for the rock shelter he found walking in. The rest drive to the Country Inn and retire to their respective beds.
The evening was chill, dropping into the freezing zone. However, there is no rain or snow. Coyote manages to insulate himself with some of the pine duff that has drifted underneath the rock shelter he bunks in for the evening.
During the evening, as Coyote drifts into a restless sleep, he catches distant thoughts. Unlike the typical human thoughts that flow across his brain like an endless white noise when he is near people, these ones are decidedly alien in tone and shape. It almost seems like a sentient wolf pack, hunting through the night **food near**
Whatever makes these disturbing thoughts fades into the distance as Coyote tries to stay quiet
Saturday, October 24rd, 2020 The party awakes in their beds. There is frost outside, but the sun soon chases it off, and the day warms to autumnal fall.
Merle's missiles strike the creature
Mel watches in impotent frustration as the armored warrior plunges into the jungle canopy. Alessia feels the jungle floor rise up to smack her roughly
The waitress returns with their meal. As they tuck in, the room beyond the metal door begins to resonate with throbbing guitar notes. The song is muted, but the concert is definitely underway.
Effects: Group is now >HASTED< Duration: 4/11 rds 25 Hamar: pending
the whirlwind clears the edge of the pyramid. There is a 150' drop to the jungle below. Suddenly the howling winds stop. The three drop towards the green tree crowns in a spinning tumble!
Mel reorients himself and looks to his two companions to see if they need aid
RD 1
24 Taishe [miss]
Nahuatl Ti's ethereal weapon stabs into Kersh, drawing a groan from him. 13 Spider's glowing macuahuitl fails to connect
The polyp is singularly uncharmed. The Lillend shrugs and yells through the wind to Justin "The thing is just too alien! I can't even tell if the spell landed!"
24 Taishe [miss]
DM Bidness:
Jakun's hands erupt in a scintilating display of colors. One of the thugs hits the ground, twitching and holding his eyes. He goes limp
The two bolts miss Tragon. The vial sails over Tragon and Jakun and explodes in fire over Taishe
Group is now >HASTED< for 3/11 rds 25 Hamar: [hit/miss]
Blayze attempts to fire her guns, but there is a jam
The three trapped in the whirlwind are swept off the top of the pyramid into open space. The whirlwind seems to be just traveling a straight line roughly southwest. . Those held within the whirlwind are trapped, but they can commit personal actions. Mel seems to be chugging a potion. He screams something into the wind . Meanwhile a horrid burst of fetid scalding wind hits those still on the pyramid with tornado-like force.
The party enjoys a long a filling meal at Ogre's Hall of Heaven. There is fine mead as well, and the group gets quite merry indeed. The ogres serve many side dishes alongside the spitted roast boar - they have many seafood items, breads, cheeses, nuts, and a small game and foraged greens stew that is incredibly rich and succulent. The party heads back to the Copper Cauldron, and Justin staggers back to his apartment. Everyone is groaning with overfed pain. Except Karrin, who goes into the main dining room of the Cauldron to see what tidbits are still available from dinnertime FIN
The shifting/phasing abomination seems to fade out just as Hamar's vorpal scimitar goes snicker snack. The blade whistles through empty space
The spinning mass of gelatinous cancerous flesh howls as the party attacks. Their friends whirl around in the miniature tornado sweeping them closer to the pyramids edge
DM Bidness:
Tragon readies his blades and turns the corner of the tunnel. The room opens up to a wader area. There are two firing slits in the wall, fashioned like fortress arrow slits. Three men are in the area. Two rank and file Lotus Dragon members, and the false merchant Kersh. The two men have leveled crossbows at the tunnel entrance, and they fire as soon as Tragon comes into view. Kersh has a vial of something in his hand, which he lobs at the tunnel entrance, aiming past Tragon
Group is now >HASTED< for 3/11 rds 25 Hamar: [Pending]
Manhayth draws his bow again, and lets loose another volley of arrows
The crowd noise is dulled by the new metal curtain between the dining area and the bar. However, there seems to be a swell in the volume. A few distant chords can be heard. For a local band, Dreaming God seems to have a pretty good following. Perhaps they are a regional-level band.
Tragon gets a feeling on the back of his neck that there is danger ahead. He doesn't hear anything, but the curve in the tunnel is a very logical place for an ambush to be placed
The waitress returns after a few minutes, and takes any food orders the party wishes to place. The food is typical American pub, but there are a few vegan options. Nothing more exotic than a few Tex-Mex items. The stage is being set up efficiently by the t-shirt-clad minions at the other end of the bar. Two waitstaff roll out a folding metal screen on a track that bisects the large building. It cuts the bar area off from the dining, with an access door set into the middle. The stage is hidden from view and the rumble of the bar crowd lessens to background noise
Tragon gets the door open. A corridor heads south, jogging eastward 10 feet down. There seems to be no one waiting, but it is impossible to see around the bend in the weeping brick tunnel.
There are several boars roasting around the hall. Ysgardian potatoes are a glandular version of the normal spud, being the size of a decent pumpkin. Sharvuk comes from a barbaric, yet honorable set of ogres, and their food is truly succulent in a barbecue pit sort of way. The chestnut stuffing is plentiful, seasoned with secret ogre spices. Every chin gleams with rendered pork fat
After finishing their ‘first’ meal at the Bites of Bytopia, the pub they started at, Karrin leads them to her favorite Sigilian eatery, Ogre’s Hall of Heaven. There the proprietor, Sharvuk ‘Ogre’ Crunchbone, an actual full-blooded ogre and accomplished restauranteur, greets Karrin with a bear hug “Karrin! My favorite customer! It has been too long! Come! Come! I make you roast boar with Ysgard potatoes!” Everyone has more than enough food (except for Karrin, for whom satiety might be a physical impossibility) and enjoys the ambiance of a the restaurant. It is fashioned like an ogre feast hall, and is heavy on the meat and carbs
No traps or secret doors can be ascertained
Tragon checks to make sure the party is with him and then tries the door. The door opens easily, gliding on oiled hinges. It reveals another circular room, almost identical to the one where the faithless Kersh climbed out. There is even a rope ladder and trap door in the ceiling like the first room. The room is empty except for another shut teak door on the south side of the room
The group discusses the gold, and the consensus is that only those involved in battling the beast should get a cut. Mr Swire, Crookshanks, Avrahim, and Martin are part of that. Braxton Sha’Vander declines gracefully “You folks did the work. I merely was along for the ride” Murph also declines “You all split my share as thanks for the rescue”
Coyote examines the ring, looking closely on the barely-perceptible runes. The writing is Göetic script, a language that is rarely used in conversation. It is more of a spell-crafting runic tongue, with each letter a magic charm. The runes he can make out deal with protection and safety. He would guess that the ring could protect the wearer from harm
As soon as the oil hits the stone, there is an audible *snap* sound, and the star depression enlarges and deepens. A greyish shimmer fills the hollow. Beyond it can faintly be seen the belching towers of the Great Foundry. Murph strides forward and enters. Justin gets the feeling she wants off this plane posthaste. The others file through as well. The other side is indeed Sigil. The sulfuric smog of the Foundry District enfolds them like a familiar friend. The party heads towards the nearby taverns of Alehouse Row to find somewhere to grab a hot meal and a drink. At a small quiet snug, they sip homebrew ale and munch a surprisingly delicious sampler of small dishes. The waiters keep bringing trays to the hungry crew. There are chicken, pork, beef, rothé, and all sorts of vegetables and seafood all cooked in various methods - most wrapped in dumpling or pastry shells. After a celebratory meal, the various party members slip away. Justin recalls that they will be headed off to find the being known as Pando next peak. Martin makes his goodbyes, as does Avrahim, Crookshanks, and Mr Swire. The merchant Braxton Sha’Vander V thanks them all again, and tells them that he owes them a favor, not a bad thing to have from a merchant who deals in rare magical items Sha’Vander’s backstory : Spoiler:
Justin’s memory is sharp on that store. It is actually well known in wizarding circles as one of the premier consignment/auction houses of niche magic from around the planes. Justin has window shopped there before, and also knows that Thomas is Braxtons barber. Finally, replete and tired, the remainder of the party makes it back to the Copper Cauldron for a nights sleep before the next adventure!
Group is now >HASTED< for 2/11 rds 25 Hamar: Miss
Manhayth draws his bow, and lets loose a volley of arrows
The winds about the abberation send his arrows spinning off into the cloudy sky. The whirlwind takes the hapless party members and drags them closer to the edge of the pyramid!
The fight is brief, but brutal. the two spider things lie dead and twitching. Loooking around, Justin spies a star-shaped depression in the wall, much like the one described by O.L.l.I in his note
The group heads down the corridor. The door at the end is typical. Teak, well-cared for, and solid.
The bartender gives Coyote a professional smile and sets up his order. The total ends up close to the $30 he slapped down. Piels seems to be a low-cost option for the locals, but the rest of the order’s prices seem more in line with a tourist spot. The bartender is young, but there is a tiredness in her face that makeup can’t quite hide. She is covered in tattoos, her two arms almost sleeved. She points to a waitress and tells Coyote she’ll have the order brought to the table. There is some activity over at the bar end. A few men with intricate iridescent knot work on their black tee shirts begin wheeling out equipment and plugging in cords.
Coyote bellies up to the bar and catches the bartender’s eye. She listens to his request for a cheap pitcher and relates they carry Piels on tap, $5 a pitcher
The waitress leaves them with their menus. She seems unperturbed by their party, but the leafing season brings many characters to Halifax. Some of them are in the Mill Barn tonight. There is a knot of bikers in a corner in the bar section. . There are different groups of youthful parties, some very New England Preppie, some Milltown Regular. A scattering of New Age and Ecohippie can be seen too. This place doesn't seem to resonate with the older leafers. K(Local) DC12: Spoiler: The pathces and insignia the bikers sport mark them as a branch of the Riders of the Apocalypse, a fairly hard-core biker gang that has branches from New England to the Upper Midwest
Coyote has his pick of campsites as he walks to town. The area is forested heavily, and anyone with a bit of woodcraft could make a snug nest without issue. He finds a spot where several glacial rocks are piled with pine trees surrounding them and stashes his kit under the natural hut the rocks make. The floor is pine needles, with a clean astringency to them that speaks of an unoccupied area At the Mill Barn… The party reconvenes and enters the Mill Barn. It looks to be exactly what its name suggests- an old barn repurposed for a restaurant with a largish dancing area and stage. No one is playing anything yet, but there is a set up of instruments on the stage and a backdrop that reads DREAMING GOD in bold crimson letters. The border of this fabric backdrop looks to be illustrated with some sort of Celtic knotwork. The crowd is fairly large even at this early hour. It’s payday for many, and there are still a fair amount of tourists in the area. Bands also always seem to draw crowds, and this looked like a local favorite from the way the tables near the dance floor are already claimed. Back on the other side of the large barn is a more restauranty setup. Booths and tables line the area, about half with patrons. A smiling middle aged woman approaches them and leads them to their seating. She gives them the option of booth or table. After a small wait a waitress arrives and hands out menus. The fare is fairly standard American Pub style, with a few nods to vegetarian sensibilities
Friday, October 23rd, 2020, 6PM
The group, sans Coyote, travel to the site of the old Whelan Mill by the Nonquesset River, in downtown Halifax. The Spoon is tucked away on the east side the huge parking lot, but as they approach, they notice it is dark. There is a 'CLOSED' sign on the door, and they can see that hours run from 6am-3PM. However, another building, the Mill Barn, is lit up and has cars out front. It looks to be a restaurant/bar combo, and there is a sign advertising a band named Dreaming God which will be playing there Friday, which happens to be tonight. Coyote slips into town, flitting from alley to alley. He sees the parking lot, and he arrives just after the car full of the others circles by the entrance of the Spoon. He sees on the other side of the massive old parking lot a decaying collection of buildings, some sort of old abandoned factory. In front of the chained and locked gate of the complex is a large billboard that reads COMING SOON! THE WHELAN MILL RIVERFRONT SHOPPING COMPLEX!. The sign is faded, and looks like it has been there for quite a while. He sees the Mill Barn as well. It is a honkytonk, just like the hundreds he's drank a glass in over the years. It wouldn't stand out from San Diego to Syracuse.
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